


Swirling Mind

by BlackBirdAolen



Series: Snow Endangered | A Final Fantasy XIII Fetish Series [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Feminization, Hypnotism, Imprisonment, M/M, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 04:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13182744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBirdAolen/pseuds/BlackBirdAolen
Summary: Snow thinks that he is losing his mind. Somehow he has ended up on an airship and... can't remember much outside of it?Got a fanfic idea for me?My deviantART - full of original fiction.Snippets and ramblings on my tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

Snow blinked and stared up at the ceiling, confused as to where he found himself. It looked vaguely familiar, with how the metal plates were bolted together, and some rust was showing at the corners of the plates. But other than that, he didn’t know where he had gotten himself into again. The last thing he could recall clearly was wandering along the streets of Bodhum, somewhat lost in thoughts about what he was to do next. It was difficult to move about without arousing suspicion with the higher-ups, so there had been a bit of a tense atmosphere all over Cocoon as of late. But now, it seemed to have landed him in trouble – yet again.

Snow grunted and slowly straightened up, trying to get his swimming head cleared. He was feeling a bit tipsy, as though he had been drunk. A short, suspicious sniff of a huff of his own breath confirmed that there had been no alcohol involved, so there was another mystery added to his circumstances. He could hear the thudding of boots in the distance, which sounded a lot like marching. It seemed that the Psicom was once again somehow involved, but he had absolutely no idea what had happened to land him here.

A quick look down his body confirmed that something was fishy. His clothes were in disarray, half slipped on again, after something had happened to him. Snow rubbed the back of his head, feeling sore and confused about the whole affair. Whatever had happened, something carnal had happened, and he was set on finding out what it was. Psicom had fucked with him more than enough, and he could live without them messing with him even more than before.

Snow gathered himself up from the ground and sat down on a soft bed in the room. The room itself was a small square, barely three by three meters long. A cell, for a lack of better words, and with no window to the outside. There was just a dim light illuminating the metal walls. It was not too dim, but still not bright enough to really give him an idea of more of his surroundings. There was just the metal plating which told him that it was some sort of temporary shack or maybe something that would be found on an airship or the likes. Snow shook his head, trying to feel around him if the room moved in any manner.

It was almost imperceptible, but he was fairly convinced that the floor of the cell was moving. There was something going on, and he didn’t like it one bit. If he was on a troop ship, then that meant that he was in trouble. Psicom rarely took prisoners to the airships, and that invariably meant that they had set up a game or gamble with them. Snow didn’t want any part of this, but still found himself in a situation which would highly likely land him even deeper in trouble.

“What the…” Snow furrowed his eyebrows and pushed one hand down his pants, which were gaping open wide. Something sticky ran along his thigh, and he shuddered in light disgust. Had they done what he thought that they might have done? He squirmed around a little, until he had some of the sticky substance on his fingers, and brought it up again. It was hard to see in the dim light what color exactly that substance had, but the feeling of it against his fingers left little doubt in Snow’s mind.

“You bastards.” Snow got up and kicked against the wall, which produced a resounding echo inside whatever building or ship he was. He felt disgusted, but not as much as he would have expected, and that confused him even further. Something had happened between the time he had been wandering Bodhum’s streets, and then woken up in this room. He tried to remember, raked his brain for answers, but nothing would come forward. Snow paced up and down the room, shaking his head repeatedly. He couldn’t accept that, quite likely, Psicom had managed to conceal from him what they had done. It sickened him, but there was nothing he could do about it at that moment.

The sound of something scraping across the floor caught his attention. A tablet with food had been pushed towards him under the door, through a gap that had opened for just this moment. The gap closed again before he could react to it, and left him alone once more. The food smelled damned good, and Snow sighed quietly. He would have to eat, since he did feel a little exhausted. Whatever had transpired could wait for a little longer. He had to gather his strength again, and for that, he would have to accept, for the moment, that he was at the mercy of someone other than his own whims.

While Snow was eating, he had the feeling that his stomach was filled with something else. He couldn’t recall having eaten, and he certainly had been satisfied enough to keep him from gobbling down the food that had been offered to him. He scooted around on the bed, unsettled by the thought. No, he couldn’t imagine that. The Psicom soldiers weren’t known for letting their captives eat some strange stuff, to then wait and see how it would pan out. Nothing about that made sense to him.

And still, something had disturbed his regular eating schedule just enough that he noticed. Not that it would have killed his appetite, but still, he had the feeling that they had messed with him in some manner. Frustrated that he couldn’t put his finger on it, Snow flung the empty tablet against the door and pushed his fingers through his hair, trying to keep calm after that brief outburst. So, what if they had him captive at that moment? The first opportunity he would get, he would make sure that those Psicom bastards wouldn’t be able to sit for several weeks straight.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time it happened, Snow was even more confused than before. He again woke inside the cell, not on the floor this time, but in his bed. His clothes were even more disheveled, his coat was missing, and his bandana had been put on so sloppily that some of his hair had gotten caught in the knot. He groaned and slowly got up, trying to shake the feeling of exhaustion and tiredness. There was something going on, he just knew it, but he couldn’t tell why he was unable to remember anything. If there was something going on with Psicom, he should have been able to tell quite easily. But for all the effort he put into thinking about what could have transpired, Snow couldn’t come up even with one theory.

Again, he was given something to eat, but Snow wasn’t feeling hungry at all. His knees were oddly sore, and his shins felt like they had scraped across the floor a good amount. He had no idea what sort of game Psicom would play with him would require him to cower on the floor for such a long time. Whatever it was, it had left him feeling sore all over again. Especially his lower back was giving him Hell, and it took Snow some time before he could sit comfortably and even think about having his dinner, as much as he was opposed to it in the first place. What if they had put something into his food that was helping them with their games even further?

He couldn’t think much about that, though. While Snow was chewing on a piece of meat, he had the weird impression something was pushing against his lips. Yet, whenever he touched his lips, there was nothing there. It was as if something invisible was rubbing against him, but whenever he rubbed briefly across his skin, he dispelled the sensation, at least for a good couple minutes. He also felt weirdly uncomfortable in his clothes, but for the sake of keeping warm in the relatively cold room, he kept them on for the moment.

Snow sighed deeply when he put away the tablet, shaking his head to himself. Maybe, he was just going crazy. This could well be a test from the Fal’Cie, those evil bastards. They could come up with the weirdest experiments to test what humans were willing to do, and pick their most suited l’Cie like that. Snow scratched his temple, thinking it through. While it seemed compelling, he couldn’t imagine that the Psicom was in cahoots with a Fal’Cie. The Sanctum Fal’Cie had their weird little episodes, but he couldn’t imagine that one of them required him to be put through the wringer like that. Besides, they had a habit of gloating about what they had done at some point, and thus tended to reveal their entire plans for their l’Cie. Here, he had absolutely no clue what was going on. And he didn’t like it one bit.

While he was brooding over what to do next, images flashed in front of Snow’s eyes. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on at first, but then realized that his subconscious was trying to push forward memories pertaining to his small adventure with Psicom. He tried to focus on the images, but it was to no avail. He just got the sensation that something was out of the ordinary, and that he had been treated to a round of rough play, which had somehow resulted in him feeling rather full, and his legs hurting like he had been cowering for an unusual length of time.

Then something else came to him, and he didn’t like it at all. Psicom’s interference also had to have something to do with his sudden dislike for his clothes, which had been on his back for such a long time. The general feeling of fabric against all his body seemed somewhat repulsive for some reason. It wasn’t strong enough yet that he was tempted to rip off the fabric and be free of the constraints of clothing, but it was more than enough to make him feel like he was on edge, and just waiting for something to happen.

“What the Hell happened?” Snow murmured to himself. He wanted to scream and shout it, instead of whispering it to himself, but he didn’t want to rouse any more attention than necessary. Psicom was already paying more than enough attention to him, and that in and of itself was troubling already. Why they had locked him up here was still subject to his pondering, and the more he thought about it, the more outrageous his ideas about the reasons for it became.

Again, he felt the strange, faint pressure against his lips, and Snow caught himself automatically opening his mouth, as if to let something in. He shook his head, mouth still slightly agape in surprise. What was that movement all about? His body seemed to remember quite vividly what had happened, but for all he tried to remember, he still couldn’t make sense of it. Something had caused him to do something, but he didn’t remember one bit. Had they somehow hypnotized him into doing something?

The moment he thought that word, Snow felt that he was nodding faintly. It was just a twitch of the muscle, barely perceptible, but still there nonetheless. His subconscious definitely was trying to tell him something, though the way it happened freaked Snow out even further. It was as if he wasn’t fully in control of his body, and, having worked on having full control for pretty much all of his life, this new development was sending shivers down his spine. He felt helpless and angry both, but the emotions were strangely subdued for some reason. There was something else, and with so much about this situation, Snow couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on.


	3. Chapter 3

He did remember something that time. Snow was rubbing his head lightly. He did have a small bump in his forehead, which had been covered with a small patch, as though someone had taken care of him after a small incident. Snow grunted, rubbing his forehead, careful to not aggravate the bump too much. He did remember that something had flown towards him, and that he apparently had struggled for a short amount of time. It was a very faint memory, and floating over the scene was a calm voice, which had repeated certain phrases. At least, he was certain that the voice had repeated something. He didn’t recall the words themselves, but he could recall that there had been a very smooth rhythm to the recitation.

Snow furrowed his eyebrows and slowly moved his lips, while he tried to recall what had been said. It was pretty much useless. This time, his body didn’t seem to be able to remember either. There was more frustration welling up inside of him, but there really wasn’t much he could do about it right now. He didn’t want to aggravate his sore body any further, so he was content with laying down on the bed and waiting for something to eat to arrive. He by now was quite sure that there was nothing in the food, but rather that something happened whenever he was brought from the room to somewhere else, which would make him forget about what had taken place.

Something had happened this time that made him feel somewhat… Snow couldn’t quite describe how it felt, but it was a floaty feeling, like something had taken a hold of him and made him feel all light and almost like he was swimming in some sort of thick air. But there was also a weird kind of satisfaction that got a hold of him. Snow furrowed his eyebrows as he pondered it. Whatever he was doing there, he seemed to gain some sort of satisfaction from it, and it seemed to hold out for a while after the Psicom troopers were done with him.

And there also was this feeling of pressure against his lips again, which again caused Snow to unconsciously open his mouth, as though he wanted to let something in. He didn’t wave away the sensation this time, curious if the sensation would develop any further. But there was nothing happening for quite some time, so he dismissed the thought and clamped his jaw shut. That, however, made him feel strangely queasy. Whatever the Hell had gone on while he had been out of it again, he didn’t want to bite down on the sensation under any circumstances.

The tablet scraped across the floor, and Snow looked towards the door. Again, he couldn’t see who had pushed the tray through the opening, but he could hear the footsteps leaving from his cell. The tell-tale tapping of the Psicom boots somehow soothed him, strengthening his suspicion that the Psicom was somehow involved in making him do something against his will, or at least without him able to recall properly.

Snow shook his head, eating his food while he thought about it. The bump on his forehead, his increasing uneasiness with his clothes which should have felt just fine against his skin, the strange involuntary movements his mouth performed whenever he let it, the sore feeling in his lower back and on his shins – it all somehow was connected. He didn’t want to think too much about it at that moment, but he had to put up that effort. He wanted to know what in the world was going on, and he wanted to know what he could do to wrench himself from the grip of Psicom. And for him to succeed in that, he would have to accept that something had happened to him for which there was no immediate explanation yet.

Snow paced up and down the room, thinking about it. The heat had been turned up slightly, so he didn’t have to keep his clothes on if he didn’t want to. He only stripped down to the waist; everything else, he kept on. But he still had the feeling that it wasn’t enough. While he pondered what could have happened, he tried to get into a position which would replicate the soreness he had felt, or at least give him a familiar sensation, much like the meat had when it had touched his lips during eating.

But for as much as he tried, he couldn’t quite get it right. Snow huffed and ached and tried to adjust his legs lightly, his knees scraping across the floor while he tried to find the exact position he apparently had assumed for such a long time. But after half an hour, he had to give up trying. His shins and thighs were hurting like all Hell right now, his lower back was protesting the cowering position he had assumed for his experimentation, and his jaw was feeling oddly sore, as if it was remembering just now that it had been exercised quite some.

“Goddammit…” Snow heaved himself atop of the bed, slumping down with a frustrated huff. There was nothing much that he had found out here, but at least, he had occupied his mind and his body for a while. He was feeling exhausted, but still not enough that he would fall asleep.

He stared at the wall, trying to put his mind at ease. It wasn’t possible. He was still nervous about the whole ordeal, and he was trying to not lose his mind over the thought that something had happened that had torn him out of his usual life, and had thrown him into something entirely new. He would have to fight his way out of it, it seemed. But he would have to find out what kind of enemy he was facing. And Snow had the uncomfortable suspicion that there was no enemy outside of his own mind to fight this time.


	4. Chapter 4

Snow blinked slightly, while he tried to chase away the images that were flashing in front of his eyes. This time, it seemed like several days had gone by, without him noticing so. That in and of itself was pretty disturbing already, but he heard the calm voice whispering in his ear, whenever it was quiet enough for him to hear little else but his own breathing and heartbeat. Whenever the stomping of boots quieted down, the voice returned, sounding reassuring and way too relaxing for his own good. Snow rubbed his ears in an attempt to get rid of the whispered suggestions, which he still couldn’t quite decipher.

By this time, his clothes had almost completely gone. The only piece of clothing still left on him were his pants, which had been torn up quite some. They were no longer a long pair, but had been turned into shorts, which barely hid anything really. It seemed that Psicom had bit by bit stripped him over the period of several days, and marks on the wall suggested that Snow had been at least aware enough to scrape the metal, to mark another “day” that had gone by in the cell. He had only guessed. Whenever he had gone to bed, he had started scraping over his bed. Snow needed a while, but he was reasonably sure after a couple of minutes that this period had taken seven days, all in all.

Seven days, for which he had no clue what he had done, what had been done to him, and what it would mean for his immediate future.

Snow leaned his forehead against the cold wall, shaking slightly. He felt tense, but he could do little to comfort himself. There was no real thought in his mind which could take him to a more comfortable space. There was just the realization that his mind was not quite his own any longer. Something had wormed its way into his subconscious, and had nestled there quite comfortably. And whenever the Psicom troopers collected, they could make that part of him take over, and then he would do whatever they wanted. Whatever it was that they wanted.

The distant sound of boots was oddly calming for Snow, while he laid there on top of his bed and, once more, raked his brain for answers. Some were coming forward. He could remember the feeling of thin fabrics against his skin, of how soft they were. He could feel the grip of hands on his body, as if they were in the room for just a moment. There was the distinct sensation of something hitting his body. It wasn’t a violent impact at all. It was hot, sticky, and flowing just slowly enough to give him a solid idea of what his body was remembering there.

Snow sighed, burying his face in his pillow. That was just great. The Psicom troopers had apparently trained him to love this all, and he hadn’t got any chance to struggle against it really. There was something about this which pissed him off. They couldn’t have been straightforward about it, no. They had snuck their way inside his brain and were using it against him.

“That is just fucking stupid.” Snow ruffled through his hair, as if it would do anything to disperse what already had been planted, or at least dispel the thoughts that were haunting him. He rolled around atop the bed, which was surprisingly wide, and tried to settle down for just some time. It did work eventually, but not before he had agonized over what had happened for a long, long time.

Why would Psicom target him, and in such a peculiar manner? There was no real explanation for it, and the more Snow thought about it, the less sense he could make of it. Why would they target someone who could take them on in a fight, if need be, and didn’t pick out an easier target? Hope came to mind, with him being barely strong enough to go up against Goblins at times. But that thought alone made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He wouldn’t wish for Hope to be in the situation he currently found himself in. No. That was a terrible scenario to ponder.

Snow stared up at the ceiling, his eyebrows furrowed while he thought about it. The Psicom troopers seemed to have a preference for breaking in particularly stubborn people, and one of his prime abilities was being so stubborn that some of his foes simply had to give up before they would be crushed by his sheer pigheadedness. It would make sense for Psicom to want and get rid of this particular nuisance.

Snow huffed, punching his pillow. It still was stupid. He wanted to get out and fight something properly again, even though the thought was kind of exhausting in and of itself. Here, he had absolutely no challenge, and that was what ate at him. He wanted to have a challenge, as much as a pain it was at times. Without something to occupy his mind, he was going up the walls, and it was a damned wonder that he hadn’t yet tried to break out. It mostly was to be blamed on the fact that he simply was too exhausted to do so, but even so, he would have been able to at some point, and thus had squandered this opportunity with his agonizing over what had happened, rather than thinking ahead.

Snow stared into his pillow, thinking it through. He would be able to leave the room, but being barely dressed as he was right now, he didn’t feel comfortable jerking about for a long time. It was one thing to be proud of one’s body, and an entirely other to be completely relaxed to the point of just going out naked without being bothered by the stares potentially cast in one’s direction. With a sigh, Snow closed his eyes and started drifting off. No matter what direction his actions would take, he would show those Psicom troopers that he was the wrong person to mess with.


	5. Chapter 5

This time, he broke the spell somewhat, but only when he was well into what the Psicom troopers usually put him through. Snow blinked when he realized that the soft voice was speaking right now, and not just a figment of his imagination, like it had happened before. He groaned and tried to move, but found that he was pretty much restrained by his own body locking up and refusing to move. The Psicom trooper next to him was somewhat surprised, but didn’t seem to be too concerned over this development. If anything, it seemed to interest him that it had happened so out of the blue.

Snow grunted, trying to focus, but he found himself unable to move. He was just kneeling there, his eyes straight ahead, gaze focused on a video that was being played. There wasn’t much to it, outside of moving shapes and colors, though he imagined that something suggestive was going on in the middle of this. The calm voice was speaking over all of this, advising him, it seemed, to not struggle too much and just let it all happen. It sounded a damned lot like something that would play at a cult meeting, and Snow was thoroughly creeped out by it. He hadn’t understood the words before, but now he could hear that they were all aimed at making him feel as welcomed and relaxed as somehow possible. The worst part about it was that it worked, to some extent.

“Interesting. He woke up.” The video had been halted, and Snow finally could move his muscles. But the first thing that happened was that his odd kneeling position faltered, that he grew aware of how numb his body had fallen in some places. With a pretty unhappy grunt and a huff, he unceremoniously dropped onto the ground, falling flat on his face and hitting the spot where just two days ago he had felt the bump. That would have explained a couple of things about his swimming head, and he seriously had to ask himself what had happened that he always had felt so light-headed.

“Seriously? You could have caught him.” He didn’t recognize any of the voices, but the commander of the Psicom troopers kept on scolding them either way while they were picking him up. Snow hung awkwardly limp in their grip, looking around with confusion welling up inside of him. This room looked completely different than the metal-plated cell that he had been kept in for the most part. This was actually furnished like a living room, almost too lovingly furnished for it to be a place that would be expected on a troop ship. He was maneuvered over to a chair, where he was allowed to catch his breath. It was pretty obvious, though, that they wouldn’t allow him to do anything stupid.

“Interesting that you would wake up right now. That is usually the part where you’re the most submerged.” The commander crouched in front of him. He still wore his helmet, but it was quite apparent that he was looking up at Snow with interest and intent. “Did something happen that it tore you out of the trance?”

“How the Hell should I know?” Snow growled, trying to get the feeling back in his limbs. He still felt awkwardly lopsided, and it was not helped by the fact that he was feeling a lot like punching that smug fucker in front of him in the gut. “You’re the bloody experts.”

“Foulmouthed when you’re not submerged. I knew that there was a reason why the boss wanted you docile, and not like your usual self.” Whatever that meant. Snow had no intentions of staying, now that he knew what was happening to him whenever he was not quite aware of his surroundings. But he couldn’t get his body to move, again. That was frustrating beyond words, and he began asking himself what they had implanted into his mind that he would not be able to act out of his own volition any longer.

“Don’t bother struggling too much. You’re your own prison at the moment, and it will remain like that until we’re sick of you. Which is not likely to happen any time soon.” Snow furrowed his eyebrows while he tried to make sense of everything that was being said. What in the world were those fuckers planning to do with him now? “Besides, we invested so much into you, it would be a shame to lose all of that progress. And your buddies aren’t looking for you right now, which is making all of this so much easier and convenient for us.”

Snow knew that he should have been absolutely livid at that, but he couldn’t get himself to feel anything beyond mildly annoyed. That was not what he usually was like. He wanted to feel the pressure inside of him rising to boiling point. That was what was supposed to be happening. Not feeling all docile and not like moving at all. He was not a bloody lap dog for those Psicom troopers, but it seemed that they had worked long enough on him that his body had started to believe it. And his brain couldn’t get away from this.

“Anyway, we should be working on you again, shouldn’t we?” It was as if the commander actually wanted to hear his opinion on this. Snow did try to voice it, but again, his body was not acting like its usual self. It was creepy as all Hell, but he couldn’t force himself to do anything. No, instead, he heard himself talk, as if he was being remotely controlled.

“Of course, it would be a shame if the boys went without their daily treatment.”

What in the Hell was going on?


	6. Chapter 6

Snow was exhausted after that last run-in with the Psicom troopers. He still had only the barest of clues of what had happened. After he had broken out of his hypnosis, he seemed to have suffered a blackout of some sort. The only thing he knew for sure was that the Psicom troopers must have gone to town on him, because he felt sore like never before. Whatever had happened, it had been thorough, and it had been enough to make him feel like he never wanted to get up from his bed again. Which was a feat, because that never had happened before, not even after a particularly nasty run-in with a Behemoth.

He didn’t have to guess for a long time what had happened. This time, his food was actually brought in by a person, and not just slipped in when he had been too occupied to really care about the temporary opening in the door. The trooper who came in wasn’t wearing a helmet, but he still looked far too pleased with himself, as though he had personally instigated the whole affair, and was supervising it to his pleasures.

Snow shot him a glare as the tablet with food was rather unceremoniously plopped down into his lap, but that glare immediately faltered when he saw the wad of photos the man had lifted in one hand. Snow didn’t react with much more than a huff when he was handed the photos. He stared at them, trying to comprehend what was going on. It was hard enough already while knowing that he had been cajoled into becoming the toy for Psicom, but this here was a whole new level of them fucking with his mind.

He could see that they had put him to good use. Every single photograph was showing him sucking someone’s dick, riding them, dressing up in ever skimpier lingerie, and doing sexual favors that made Snow question just how flexible he really was. He always had considered himself to be a man so bulky that he couldn’t possibly be all that flexible with his movements. If the photographs hadn’t been altered after the fact, then his performance under the troopers begged to differ.

Snow thumbed through them, but he felt nothing that could even come close to anger when he really looked at the imagery. If anything, he felt strangely proud. On closer observation of the faces of the troopers, who barely wore helmets in the pictures, they were absolutely ecstatic, and apparently even somewhat overwhelmed with his appetite. In one picture, one of them way laying spread-eagle beneath him, while Snow looked somewhat disappointed, even half pouty about him not performing in a satisfactory manner.

If anything, Snow was rather pleased with how the photos had turned out to look like. He was miffed that he still couldn’t remember anything, and that Psicom had shown no signs that they really wanted him to remember. A part of him still wanted to be mad, to positively rage about how they had formed him into their obedient puppet, but he also couldn’t help being thoroughly impressed with they way they had gone to such painful lengths just to achieve their goal.

While Snow was chewing on his lunch, which was about high time with how his stomach was rumbling with hunger, he was thumbing through the last couple of photographs a few times over. It didn’t show him near naked like on many other of the images, but rather dressed in tasteful lingerie. Usually, he would have expected the frilly black fabric – a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance – to look absolutely ridiculous on him. But someone actually had gone through the process of creating a set of lingerie that looked like it had been tailored specifically for him.

They had been planning this for quite some time, that at least was his guess. Otherwise, they couldn’t have had everything prepared for him in quite this specific way. He could see that they indeed were on a troop ship now, as the room where he usually was brought showed large windows, which pointed out to an endless blue sky, and, more critically, clouds. They had brought him here, and had apparently gone through the pain of preparing a specific room just for having him entertain them. They also had tailored the video to their needs, it seemed, because he couldn’t well imagine that it would have worked the exact same way on someone else.

Something else caught his eye, and Snow almost had to sneer at it. There was a known face in the background, though it could have been his imagination playing a trick on him, too. But there was a distinct feeling that a certain, high-ranking man had snuck his way into the room at some point, just to observe how he was doing. He could almost here the condescending tone, and the usual “Mr. Villiers”, with which he would have been greeted by that particular individual.

All things considered, it was little wonder that there would be someone familiar to him. Snow suspected that somehow, he must have caught the eye of the Psicom troopers. Otherwise, there would have been absolutely no reason why he would have caught their eye, above anyone else. It was an oddly charming thought that he would be held in some esteem, even though he had been treated rather poorly in some ways.

Snow put down the tablet on the ground, still studying that one photograph. There was something about it that really satisfied him, but also left him wanting more, and created the still faint impression that he should just haul his way away from here. Seeing that it was indeed an airship, though, it would be all but an easy thing to escape from here. He would have to have some serious streak of luck if he was to pull this off, and even though he did have luck in the past, Snow doubted that he would be that incredibly lucky this time.


	7. Chapter 7

“You really think that still is necessary?” Snow again had woken up in the middle of the session (for a lack of better words), glaring up at the Psicom troopers, yet with a hint of a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I thought that the pictures showed that I was pretty happy to oblige.”

“We can’t be quite that sure of that,” one of the troopers countered, but there was some doubt showing on his face. They were looking at each other as if they sought confirmation with each other, but there was none coming forward. Snow wiggled up on his feet, which seemed to surprise all of them, seeing that he had been forced to stay in his kneeling position the last time this had happened. He looked around, sighing quietly. Really, were they so concerned with him going ballistic? He had realized that it was useless to try and do so, since his body would only obey him to a limited extent, and if he wanted to really do something, he would have to go along with what the troopers wanted him to do either way.

“Just give me the good stuff and let me do my thing. Is that so hard?” Snow knew that he probably wasn’t doing the smart thing with provoking them, but he had just about had it with their stalling. He wanted to find out just how badly they wanted him. His estimate was that they were quite desperate for him, but he still had some doubt about how much this really could be the case. If they were happy to stand around and bicker instead of “teaching him a lesson”, then there was something wrong with their commitment to the whole affair.

It was the troop leader who finally broke the spell. He had taken off his helmet and pulled Snow with him, over to one of the more comfortable couches. Snow knew that it would be hard to break out of this place anyway, so he would not attempt to do so in the near future. If they didn’t land, then it was hopeless to try. And wasting his energy with doomed break-out attempts was just not in his interest right now. It already cost him a good deal of energy breaking out of this hypnosis state every time it happened, so he was keen on not spending too much more energy if he couldn’t be sure that it would pay off.

The leader pulled him into his lap, looking positively starved for some good attention. Snow was happy to oblige, and soon enough was riding him with smooth movements. It was surprising how many teasing movements he could tickle out of his body, and he didn’t have to think about it. Snow was well off with just letting his body do its thing, and was astonished by how well they had seemed to train him. Was a simple hypnosis video and enough repetition enough to really cause all of this?

It had been enough to make him do all of this, without him being able to remember much after the fact. The memories had come back days after the sessions at times, but most of the times, it had come back to him in his dreams, which almost made it feel like he went through the same procedure twice in a single day. His brain was already hooked on the attention he received for his performances, so Snow saw no way of breaking out of this all too soon. He wanted to enjoy it for some time longer, and when the time came, he would have his little revenge on the Psicom troopers. They could take their pleasure with him, but he would make sure that they would have to pay for it in some way.

He was not entirely opposed to it any longer. Snow was aware of that, and it was a little strange to think about it like that. But at the same time, he was quite aware of how much the troopers relied on him for daily stress relief and a good time by now. If he could deny them this pleasure, he could exert quite some power over them. Maybe, in time, when his body had grown used to it enough, he would be able to make them do his bidding, instead of them being able to command him about. He was entirely happy with getting humped to their hearts’ content, but he still saw ways in which he could turn the game on its head.

“It’s even better when you’re not just mindlessly stammering around.” The trooper beneath him was panting and laughing, but obviously completely exhausted after the hard ride. Snow tsk’d at him, bending forward without ever moving away from his lap. “What? Are you not satisfied?”

“No. Not really.” Snow toyed around with the hem of the trooper’s uniform, which had the man’s attention focused all on him. “That might work when I’m all caught up in my little fantasy world, or whatever happens when I’m not aware. But like this? It needs far more to exhaust me than when you are giving it your all.”

“Such a cheeky little brat.” The trooper grunted when Snow was lifted off of him by two of his comrades, then being pushed off the couch by them. “You’re just the bottom in this, so you shouldn’t be opening your mouth quite that wide. Outside of us offering you some nice treats, of course.”

Snow chuckled, turning his attention fully towards the two troopers currently feeling him up. He still was hard from the ride he had received, but he had been unable to cum. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be allowed to until he was given the order, so he leaned back and enjoyed the ride that was coming straight for him.


	8. Chapter 8

In one of the rare moments when he really was all on his own, Snow laid on his back and thought about what he had gone through so far. At least, as far as he could tell, he had been on the ship for a full month by now, and the hypnosis had reached deep. His aversion towards how he was treated by the troopers had completely vanished during the times when they had them in their midst, but when he was alone in his little room, he still felt disgust welling up inside of him. But it was nowhere near strong enough to make him consider fleeing the ship any longer. There was a strange rift inside of him, but with every day passing, it was closing further. He didn’t even ponder if that was a good or a bad sign any longer. It was just how it was.

After the session where he had been aware, there had come further sessions when he hadn’t been, which he greatly regretted. But the troopers had supplied him with plenty of photographic evidence that he still was having quite some fun, which also created a fun bit of tension between them. Snow still didn’t know all the commands he reacted to, and it was almost a bit of a game of poker between them, while Snow tried to figure out how many commands they had programmed into his mind, while the troopers tried day after day to find the true end to his stamina, which seemed to increase with every single session. That was both a good thing for them and an unexpected challenge, as it would need a ton of input to really make Snow cum in a satisfactory manner. They could just command him to, and he would climax with quite some violence, but that was not the same as getting his kick with some proper fucking.

Snow scratched along his temple, shaking his head. He was concerned with how it had developed, but mostly because he thought about how he would be able to get away from those addicting sessions. He did like the roughness by now, and whenever he felt sore, Snow was sure that he had done a good job flattening everyone into happy puddles of mush. Besides, if he could keep the Psicom troopers from doing all sorts of stuff, it would be all the easier on the others. Maybe, this was just where he was supposed to be?

A small thought reared in the back of his mind, even if it was just for a short time. Could he even be sure any longer that his thoughts were his own? Snow did have the feeling that it was getting harder to tell what really was part of his personality, what he had truly grown used to, and what had been implanted deeply into his mind with the continued hypnosis. But at the same time, Snow had started to doubt that it really was hypnosis any longer. Maybe, this was just the way his true personality had emerged, and he would have to accept that thought, if it turned out to be true in the end.

“Psh…” Snow sighed and turned around on his bed. He picked up some of the photographs again, his gaze trailing across them without really looking at anything. He was tired, and probably shouldn’t have been staying up all that long to begin with. Staying up late always brought about strange thoughts, and this time, it was no exception. But this time, it really was two different thoughts vying for his attention. On one hand, he didn’t want to be seen as just a toy by the troopers, but on the other hand, he didn’t quite see any longer why he should be so concerned about that. If anything, his ability to make them lose their composure was really working to his advantage. He could tease them, they could try to retort, and they still would come up short, however satisfied that they had been trying so hard.

“Still awake?” Snow blinked and looked up. The door had opened near soundlessly, and in the door stood Yaag Rosch, looking over him with a strangely smug expression. Smug was, most of the time, the default expression on Rosch’s face, especially when the two of them met under any circumstances Rosch deemed advantageous for himself. Snow sat up slowly, shrugging then, and giving Rosch no sign that he was impressed in any fashion. He really wasn’t. The commander had stepped in one too many messy situations too convinced that he would come up on top. And with all that Snow knew about his impact on the troopers, he didn’t see how Rosch was in any position of really being all that smug about it. They were similar in some respects, but in this situation Snow was convinced that Rosch had no reason to be so haughty.

“Well, as I see it, none of the troopers was able to really exhaust me, and you haven’t done it either, so, yes. I’m still awake.” Snow did what he still could do best. He was intentionally provoking, and he knew that he was getting to Rosch on a very deep level here. Rosch’s mouth was twitching, but he said nothing. At least not yet.

“Quite the mouth on you, Mr. Villiers, despite all of our best efforts. It seems that there is still a constant about you.” Rosch almost sounded… relieved? It was hard to tell, between his attempts to keep himself from either laughing or getting angry. Snow had a lot of trouble reading Rosch at that moment, which was odd, considering that he had thought that he should know Rosch quite well.

“It would be boring if everything about me could be changed,” Snow finally said with a shrug. “But, speaking about changing things up. How about letting me experience the full package for a change?”


	9. Chapter 9

Snow was put into all new lingerie for this session. He had a feeling that he might come to regret having taunted Rosch all that much, but he really couldn’t have resisted either way. Rosch had made a point of making himself the mastermind behind the plot, however intentional or unintentional it had been with his visit to Snow’s room, but Snow was not willing to let this go and just let him slink back off and not prove himself. He wanted to see if Rosch actually was able to make him eat his words without having to resort to purely commanding him about.

Rosch did look a little intimidated when Snow just plopped into his lap and started feeling him up some. Even the troopers who were more than eager to line up for a good shot at Snow’s mouth and backside weren’t keeping Snow much from teasing Rosch out of his mind. Even with the barked commands for Snow to ride on the offered lengths, it was hard for Rosch to really keep control of the situation. Snow might have been a bottom at that moment, but that didn’t change the fact that the troopers were all desperate to get a piece of him. They had to line up, he just had to take all that was offered. In that sense, he had the easiest job of all of them.

Snow was splayed out on the couch, getting humped with quite some vigor. As before, his body was reacting automatically to every single command and every smallest input that was given to him. His brain at some point just completely switched off, and they were far from giving him all they got. It was just such a mass of input, Snow couldn’t keep up with it. Maybe that had been one of the reasons why he hadn’t been quite there at all the times. It was hard enough keeping up with the barked commands, even with his body reacting all on its own, and this was just getting out of hand quite fast.

Rosch had to yell at the troopers to get somewhat of an order established, but even then, Snow was just ceaselessly pounded, in every sense of the word. No matter if it was his mouth or his ass, he was getting a railing that was not matched by anything else in this world. His lingerie hung on him by just some threads, which was a pity, because he had taken quite a liking to it. But with how greedy the men were acting around him, it had just been a question of time until it would have been torn up.

Snow slowly drifted in a strange kind of stupor, which probably was his brain’s way of telling his body that it no longer could keep up with all of the input. The touches on his body melted into a single sensation, a firework of warmth and pressure. Snow grunted and gave some noises, though he wasn’t sure any longer how much really was getting out of his mouth. He was struggling to even breathe properly, with the thrusting going on in his mouth, and the troopers being more than just a little rough with him. He let them be, knowing that his body would handle this even without his conscious input.

It was a bit of a pity, but he just couldn’t keep himself fully aware for the duration of this. He had taunted Rosch about it, sure, but there was no way that he could be up for his own challenge. Snow groaned softly, squeezing at his painfully hard cock. It simply wouldn’t release all the pressure built up inside, simply lacking the official command for him to get some relief. He was doubtful that they had even noticed so far, with how they were occupied railing him like there was no tomorrow. It did feel a little like this was their last opportunity to really get a good go at him, and Snow was loving and hating it at the same time. Loving it, because it was just such a firestorm of emotions and sensations, but also hating it for being such a sheer overload.

He grabbed onto something – he wasn’t even sure any longer what it was – just to not be thrown to the ground by the intensity of the troopers hammering into him. Snow must have grabbed Rosch a little too tightly, as he did get the impression that the commander was complaining even more than usually. He was holding on still, but it was hard for him to really get the feeling that he was still in control. But there was nothing he would have done to keep this from happening any longer. There was just too much of this addictive sensation flowing through his body. His brain was firing off a firework of pleasure, and it was adding to all the sensations that were raining in on him.

“What a slut.” Rosch’s words were coming to him only very faint. They were both slurred and very sluggish, which indicated that the commander was suffering under the onslaught of sensations too. There was nothing he could do to really remain in control, so Snow was just giving him his all. And that was all he really could do right now.

It seemed to take days and days before they stopped taking him however they liked. Rosch was slumped into the couch, Snow folded over him, feeling utterly boneless and exhausted. He couldn’t think about anything any longer. His body was burning up like mad, with how much heat had been produced simply by his exertion. Rosch grunted, pulling him closer with a weak gesture, but there was something about it that was almost charming. Rosch had managed to break through even the command which would have been the only way for Snow to have a climax, and that was something that Snow had to respect. But right now, he just wanted to sleep. He had absolutely no power in him left right now.


	10. Chapter 10

Snow laid splayed out on his bed, grinning to himself. The troopers had given him a new room, which was luxuriously furnished and offered all the niceties that were necessary to have a good life. He really had earned himself that, and now, if they wanted to have a good time, they were coming to him rather than hauling him to this separate room. He still had no idea where this other room was, or whatever was going on outside of the rooms, and he really didn’t care any longer. He had everything he needed around him, and that was all that he wanted, really. The hypnosis no longer was at the forefront of his mind. If anything, Snow was under the impression that he always had had this slutty streak about him, so there was nothing wrong with him.

“Someone is still happy.” Rosch chuckled, closing the door behind him and coming over to Snow’s bed. Snow gave a small grunt, shaking his head lightly. He was still pooped out, and he really had no power to satisfy Rosch right now. He didn’t mind laying naked in front of the commander, but he did mind that Rosch was looking like he was about to jump atop of him and ravish him at a moment’s notice.

“Well, it’s hard to think past all of this after having been taken care of so nicely.”

Snow huffed when Rosch sat down next to him on the bed. The mattress, being rather soft, wobbled quite some, and sent a couple of shudders through his body. Rosch grunted a command under his breath – Snow didn’t even realize it really before he already was sitting upright on the bed, tucking his legs beneath him, and bending over, for Rosch to fondle him all the commander liked. Snow then realized that it had to be the “play doggie” command, which would cause him to immediately go on his hands and knees and stretch his butt towards whoever had commanded him.

“You’re an ass.” Snow sighed, but wiggled his butt against Rosch’s hand either way. There was no way he would refuse the commander now. He could, even if the commands would be beckoning him to do the man’s bidding either way, but he didn’t have to take this laying down, so to speak.

“And you have a nice ass. I never knew that you were such a bottom, Snow.” Rosch still looked mildly uncomfortable not calling him “Mr. Villiers”. Snow was about to make a snide remark about it, but then dropped it in favor of rubbing up against the man behind him suggestively. Rosch was easy to get going, and he did have to admit that the commander had a ton of stamina to back up his greed. It would always be a challenge to fully satisfy Rosch, and that was what Snow almost adored about him. The other troopers were lightweights compared to the disciplined commander.

“I guess that some things only come out when the… real self is exposed, or some stuff like that.” Not that he really thought about it any longer. There was just the current moment to be happy with, and he would be more than happy drawing even more pleasure from the situation that had been constructed around him. He had been unwilling in the beginning alright, but he would not make any more fuss outside of demanding even more and more pleasure from him.

“How is it that your appetite has become so insatiable?” Rosch sounded impressed and somewhat terrified, which was amusing to Snow in a way. He was not someone to abuse the weaknesses of people, but in this case, he just couldn’t resist. He grinded his backside against Rosch’s lap, and the commander was rock hard in a matter of half a minute. Snow snickered, and Rosch was visibly struggling not to just abuse the commands implanted into Snow’s mind to his advantage in this moment.

“Well? Aren’t you going to sate it, then? It can’t hurt to try, and you are the only one who stands a chance to.” Snow was scooting around on top of Rosch, just to tease him on an on. Edging Rosch further towards losing control was just too funny, and at some point, Snow squeaked when Rosch began spanking him a little, just to reprimand him for making fun of him like that. But still, not a single subconsciously controlling command was uttered, which spoke volumes of how disciplined Rosch could be. If he could get to Snow without the commands, then Snow would try his best to make Rosch regret that he didn’t just use the commands.

“I will try my best.”

They soon were tumbling around on the ground, which Snow appreciated. The soft bed was just a tad too fluffy for properly having fun. The floor might have been rather rough on his back, but Snow didn’t mind one bit. His body would be sore for an entirely different reason soon, and he didn’t want to hold back just because it was slightly uncomfortable for him at the moment. What counted was making Rosch lose his mind, and really show how much hunger he was having for Snow’s offerings.

“You might just be the best thing that has happened on this ship yet.” Rosch licked his lips, his uniform already all the way off. In all of his naked glory, he was incredibly attractive to Snow. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have bothered to look the commander’s way twice, but this, right here, was just all that he wanted right now. Snow sighed quietly, longingly, and shuddered when Rosch bit down on his shoulder lightly.

“You’re going to have such a good time, Mr. Villiers,” Rosch drawled, which sent a jolt down Snow’s spine. Probably another command, more veiled, but with interesting effects on him. The tingling sensation kept going, and Snow chuckled. “Oh, just believe me…”


End file.
